There was no sky.
It was grey and purple, light rain,
Thunder and lightning flashes
Fifteen seconds apart.
We’d count. Me and my friend Nic.
They said don’t drink the water,
Don’t let any of the rain get in your mouth
Because it can be electrified.
It made me wonder what would happen
If I drank it. It made me kind of want to—
It’d probably feel the same as when I grabbed
An electric fence out in Doe Bay—feels like
Hitting your elbow and a shock running through your arm,
A general rush flowing through your body.
It was loud. It literally sounded
Like Fourth of July all over again
And people were still lighting off mortars.
But you could see the sky
Lighting up red sometimes.
Lighting up the whole house.
The sky was pinkish purple
And the lightening white, making a reddish color.
Even the morning aftwards the big cloud
Was still floating over Seattle,
Cutting off all the buildings,
You could see the sun shining,
But the electrical cloud was still there.
I’d never seen anything like it.
They say they only happen every two years or so.
I saw my first lightening strike too.
It was the coolest possible.
It was like a tree. Like one bolt,
Then a thousand branches branching off,
Covering most of the sky. Crazy.
The electrical storm
Was like a creepy 4th of July. Like the world was ending.
I called some people and asked them if they were watching.
Everybody was. It was a new experience.
It’s like seeing a shooting star,
Like the feeling you just saw a ghost,
People jumping and freaking out.
It made me want to watch more,
Watch the sky
Because every time I heard the thunder
And the lightening,
I had an adrenalin rush.
You could feel it whenever it struck
I wasn’t worried it would strike me.
I knew it wouldn’t.
I just felt overwhelmed,
With knowing how powerful
Mother nature can be
And how small we really are.
God’s like a little boy with a big magnifying glass
And we’re just ants on a hill
And I’m like a worker ant
Wandering, pondering my existence.